


Start as you mean to go on

by jenny_wren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first prank</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start as you mean to go on

James stood sullenly beside Professor Sangrail, the Potions Master, as he directed the Black boy to start cleaning windows and then reluctantly accepted the mop and bucket. The Professor then stumped off and James started to half-heartedly swipe at the floor.

“Hey Potter.”

He looked up to see Black grinning down at him from his perch on a Potions workbench.

“Yes Black?” he asked warily, still not sure what to make of the pale Slytherin prince who’d somehow ended up in Gryffindor.

“You up for some fun?”

“Doing what exactly? We’ve only been at Hogwarts for three days and we’re already in our first detention, personally I’d like to put off my second for as long as possible.”

“This is easy. Even you shouldn’t be able to mess this up.” Grey eyes sparkled mirthfully.

James glared. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Just let me get in position.” Black hopped agilely across tables and stools until he stood across the room from James. “Alright then. Drop this in your bucket.” He tossed James his scrunched up cleaning rag. Taking note of just how far away from him Black was standing, James took two cautious steps away from his bucket before throwing the rag towards it.

He heard Black shout, “Accio Potter.” Before being blinded and swallowed by a bang so loud he felt rather than heard it. He flew through the air into Black and they were both blown back into the wall.

When James had recovered enough to see, hear, think, he was slumped against Black who was moaning and trying to push him away.

“Ow, ow, ow,” groaned Black, “I think I broke both my shoulder-blades.”

“Quit whinging, you’re not screaming near loud enough to have broken anything.”

“Thanks for sympathy, and after I accioed you away from the worst of the blast.”

“Black, you’re the only reason there was a blast.”

“So?”

“You’re mad.”

“Again, so? Now get off me you great lump, you’re squishing me.”

With Black shoving at him, James reluctantly hauled himself upright. At his first good view of the Potions class room his jaw dropped and he staggered on his unsteady feet. 

The room was trashed. Tables and benches lay broken on their sides, the windows were shattered and the Potions cupboard, which had been right next to the bucket, was completely wrecked, pools of ingredients from smashed bottles were mixed together and starting to smoke in a very interesting way.

James reached down, grabbing Black’s hand and dragging him to his feet.

“Come on, we better go.”

“Why?” Black stared at the now hissing mess on the floor. “Oh excellent,” he bounced on his toes, “I hoped that would happen.”

“You are completely insane,” swore James. Black bounced again, grinning madly as he watched the mixture start to froth and spit. 

James yanked hard on Black’s hand. “For Merlin’s sake you nutter, RUN.”

And then they were skidding together across the slippy floor, both running as fast as they could. They managed to get outside and slam the door closed before the second explosion. They were half way up the corridor when the third and final explosion blew the door off its hinges and rocked Hogwarts to its foundations.

Knocked off their feet by the concussion rumbling through the floor, they tumbled into a tangled, sweaty, hysterical heap. For a minute they just lay there panting and laughing. Finally James extricated himself from Black and pushed himself into a sitting position against the wall. 

“Merlin Black, you’re completely demented.” It didn’t come out as strongly as James would have liked. He still felt weak and shaky from the shock and the adrenaline of their mad dash.

Black just flopped back against the floor giggling. He shot James a sly glance from under his ridiculously long lashes.

“Your point being?”

“No point,” said James, lurching to his feet. “But I’d love to know how you’re going to explain this one to the Professors. We’re going to be in detention from now ‘til Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” said Black cheerfully.

James closed his eyes. “They can’t blame me, it’s not my fault I got stuck in detention with a nutcase. Oh Merlin, I can hear them coming now.”

The steady tramp of approaching doom seemed to have a sobering effect on Black. Before James knew it, Black had scrabbled to his feet and attached himself to his side like a trembling limpet.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Sangrail rounded the corner.

“Good Circe!” said Professor McGonagall, “Are you boys all right?”

“Yes Professor,” said James, before mentally kicking himself, if he’d claimed they were bleeding to death it would have least put their doom off for a couple of hours.

“What on earth happened?” demanded Professor Sangrail. “Were you boys playing around with the Potions reagents?”

“No, of course not,” said James, rather insulted. There was no way Black’s masterful creation of the best demolition job he had ever seen, could be described as ‘playing around’.

“Please Professor,” said a wobbly-voiced Black, “It’s my fault.” James blinked with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to simply confess.

“What did you do?” demanded Professor Sangrail.

“I d-d-dropped my cleaning rag in Potter’s bucket.”

“Well the window-shine potion certainly shouldn’t be mixed with the floor-polish, but in no way should it have this effect.” He thrust one furious fist towards the still smoking classroom.

“It was all sticky with something from the window ledge. That’s why I was going to get a new one,” sniffled Black, “I threw it to the floor but I missed and it landed in Potter’s bucket and everything exploded.”

“Idiot child,” snarled the Professor.

“I’m sorry,” wailed Black. He started to shake and his clear grey eyes grew liquid as tears started to roll down his pale cheeks. Despite knowing that the conniving little git was putting it on, James couldn’t help glaring at the Professor as he pulled the smaller boy into a protective hug.

“I would have cleaned it up,” Black protested, “But Potter pulled me away when it started to smoke.”

“As well he should have done,” said Professor McGonagall firmly. “Five points to Gryffindor, Mr Potter, for quick thinking in a crisis. I have long thought that the Potions Laboratory is no place for the younger years to be left unsupervised and this proves it.” She glared at Professor Sangrail before smiling kindly down at James, who was still holding a visibly shaking Black.

“Mr Potter, would you escort Mr Black back to your dormitory and help him to bed. If he doesn’t feel better soon I’d like you to fetch Madam Pomfrey but I expect all he needs is some peace and quiet. Being the centre of such a dreadful explosion would be enough to shock anybody.”

“Of course Professor McGonagall. I’ll make sure Black’s okay.” James was fairly sure the only danger Black was in was of keeling over from trying not to laugh. He could feel his frantic huffs of breath against the soft skin of his neck.

“Excellent Mr Potter,” she beamed at him with approval, “Another five points to Gryffindor for exemplary house spirit. I see I was wrong to worry about how Mr Black would fit into Gryffindor.”

It took James a second to work out what she was referring to, and then he scowled. “I don’t care who his family is, Sirius is my friend.” The body in his arms went stiff and he could feel Sirius gasp.

Professor McGonagall nodded. “Very good Mr Potter.”

“Thank you Professor. Come on Sirius,” James started to lead him away, “Let’s go up to bed. I have some chocolate frogs we can share.”

Sirius followed him meekly until they were a safe distance from the teachers, then abruptly pulled away.

“Did you mean it?” he asked fiercely.

“What? That I’ve got chocolate frogs?”

“No stupid, that I’m your friend.”

“Of course you are. You don’t think I’d let just anybody blow me up do you.”

“Oh.”

James noticed that Sirius’ eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed, which they hadn’t been when he was pretending to cry.

“Besides, thanks to you, I must be the only person in Hogwarts history to get house points while technically in detention.”

“Yeah, and all my hard work is going to go unrecognised,” Sirius pouted.

“Well we can’t have that. When we get back to the dorm we’ll write it up and then, when we leave Hogwarts, we’ll find some way to add it to Hogwarts a History. It would be dreadful if our brilliance was lost to posterity.”

Sirius coughed, “Uh, I think you mean my brilliance.”

“Excuse me, who was the mug who set off the explosion?”

“But…”

By the time they had eaten enough chocolate frogs to make themselves feel sick they still hadn’t found a compromise, but they did have a plan to utterly disrupt the next charms class.


End file.
